


The Library

by BeautifulFiction



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulFiction/pseuds/BeautifulFiction
Summary: A place to collect together the shorts and drabbles I've written for the FMA fandom over the years
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	1. Ashes

Ed rested his forehead against the windowpane and stared out into the rain. It was not a leaden downpour; no storm thrashed the land. Water fell in a soft pitter-patter, smearing the view and carving jagged paths across his vision. It collected in gutters and pooled down the drains outside, quiet, soothing and endless.

For the third day in a row, the sky wept. Liquid darts fell through the night, turned to molten gold by the circles of the streetlamps. A whispering wind stirred the trees, and the moon hid its face behind cloudy mourning veils.

Perhaps it was only his frame of mind that made him think like this, but when September slipped into October and the days marched on, the grief returned.

_Don’t Forget._

A grimace twisted his lip as he thought of the pocket-watch, now long gone. At the time, he’d thought that he would need the reminder, but these days he knew otherwise. It had taken him years to realise that, no matter what he did, no matter who he fought, his sin would always be with him. He had done everything in his power to put things right, but the memories still dogged his footsteps, neither bleached nor faded by the time that had passed.

Every year, every autumn, every time this day crept up on him again, Al would utter the same few words:

_You can let it go now, Brother._

His voice no longer rang in tinny tones, but it was still rich with the kind of love that nothing could destroy. It was enough to bring a smile to Ed’s face, but it wasn’t an order that he could obey. The guilt lingered on, murmuring the same old accusations.

Ed shook his head, closing his eyes in disbelief. He’d been such an idiot – such a _kid_ – but that wasn’t any kind of excuse. Not then, and not now. He had honestly believed that he would succeed where others had failed. He would bring their mother back, and nothing would stand in his way.

Yet neither pride nor good intentions had changed the outcome. He’d almost lost everything, almost lost Al, and that was something that Ed could never forgive himself for.

A shiver twitched across his skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. Ed's breath stuttered between his lips, and something whispered behind him. Cotton and feathers breathed softly as a sleep-warm presence pressed itself to Ed’s back, and strong arms wrapped the quilt around them both.

For a brief second, Ed almost resented the intrusion. For one day of the year, he let himself succumb to all the fear and worry of what could have been. For twenty-four hours, he faced the horrors of the past. After all, he knew it was the only way he could carry on into his future unafraid. Couldn’t he fight his demons in peace?

His hair was nuzzled aside, and a warm kiss brushed against the side of his neck, right over the steady beat of his pulse. Just lips, no teeth, and Ed knew it wasn’t about sex or possession. It was about love, hot and tender, perfect and unfailing.

It was about having someone by his side who could see everything in a glance, even if Ed couldn’t find the words to explain.

Roy knew that this - the sadness, the self-loathing, the pain - was just another part of who Ed was. The hurt that sat within Ed's core might stifle every breath, but Roy could draw air for both of them. He would live with a whole heart beating blood while Ed’s broke itself apart all over again, and afterwards he would help Ed put the pieces back together.

On the first October they had shared, when Ed had stood in this same spot and lost himself in shadows, Roy had told him an ancient story.

The firebird's flight filled the sky with beauty and strength, bringing good fortune to all who saw it. However, for that power to endure through the ages, there had to be a day in every year where no phoenix sang and no burning feathers glowed in the night. The creature had to perish in its own flames to be born again, as bright and bold as ever: a symbol of eternal hope.

Ed had said it was only a story and that he wasn’t some stupid flaming chicken anyway, but the words lingered on in the back of his mind, an anchor to the man who met his sadness with nothing but understanding.

In all their years together, for all the times Roy had watched this day dawn again, he had never once told Ed it was something he should not feel. He had his own darkness, and he understood that there was strength to be found in the shadows of the past. Roy was the only person in the world who could look upon Ed’s guilt with acceptance, and never question its purpose.

‘I’m here, Ed.’

Warm arms tightened over Ed's chest as he leaned back into the embrace, never taking his eyes from the weeping world.

Roy would hold him up and carry him through his day of ashes. He would keep Ed safe so that, tomorrow, his flames could dance anew.


	2. Happy

'You thought I would disapprove?'

'You don't?'

Maes pushed his spectacles up his nose, leaning back in his chair as he took a gulp of his drink. 'You're sleeping with a man, Roy. People will judge you for that alone. The fact he's half your age and your subordinate is just the icing on the cake. You'll get a lot of shit from idiots who think you're wrong or sick or sinful, but I'm glad for you.'

'Why?' Roy asked, grimacing at the facts Hughes mercilessly outlined.

Maes grinned warmly. 'Because, for the first time in years, you're actually happy.'


	3. One Day

A box lay open on his desk, special delivery from Risembool. Al knew it had to be given back. The army had no room for sentiment.

Ed had done it, had brought his brother back, but the cost was too great. There was nothing left but the pocket watch - an epitaph of silver and glass.

It was a heavy burden in Roy's palms, but his fingers curled around it protectively as his heart shuddered dead and cold in his chest.

It was still ticking, still living, and the saddest hope unfurled.

Perhaps, one day, Ed would come back for it.


	4. Dawn

Gold trailed across the pillow in warm swathes, shimmering with white highlights and saffron hues. Honey skin glowed against the fluffy, pure clouds of the quilt, bright and alive beneath the skim of Roy's palms. Pink flushed the tan of Ed's face, and desire turned sleepy amber to deep, dark yellow touched with bronze.

Beyond the windowpane, the rain thundered down, locking the world in a monotone cage. Thick clouds clogged the sky and blinded the dawn, but he did not care. His lover was like the halcyon summer sunrise, and Roy was grateful to drown himself in Ed's light.


	5. Smiling

Ed was not blind. It was written all over Colonel Shit's face. His shoulders were too relaxed; his eyes were almost sleepy. For fuck's sake he was _smiling._

Why didn't the bastard just tie a sign around his neck saying: “I got laid last night.”?

Sick, hot, guilty, angry jealousy. Not of him, but of Miss name-Roy-probably-couldn't-even-remember because she got touched, held, loved by him.

Al knew who had caught Ed's reluctant eye. Al knew everything. He could almost hear his tinny words now, gentle and reproachful:

_“Green is not your colour, brother.”_

Fuckin' Mustang.


	6. I Promise

Roy watched from the bed as Ed got dressed, muttering about his next assignment. It was incredible how Ed could go from lover to bitchy subordinate in the blink of an eye.

'Fuckin' sand gets everywhere. Haven't got it out of my boots since last time.' He rummaged under the bed for the aforementioned footwear: faithful things that had marched more miles than Roy's feet had seen in ages. 'Remind me why I'm still doing what you tell me to?'

'Ed, you never follow my orders.'

'The only reason you want to be Fuhrer is so you can boss the whole damn world around. How much longer is that going to take, anyway?'

'Years.' There was resignation in his voice, and Roy leaned back with a sigh. Ed did this to him – opened him up and revelled in his hidden places. Strange, he found that he enjoyed it. Someone in the world understood him, even if that someone was a loud-mouthed blonde brat. 'Be careful.'

'Hey, you gave me this assignment,' Ed muttered, but his eyes softened as he smiled. 'I'll try. Be here when I get back?'

Roy grinned and stretched under the bedsheets. 'Right here. I promise.'


	7. Symphony

White sheets hushed against his skin, turned pale and pure by the moonlight. A summer breeze sighed through the open window. It brushed against him with a gossamer touch that moved in perfect harmony to the heat of Roy's palms. Warm fingers traced along his sides, teasing him with a symphony of soft caresses that contrasted sharply with the hard lines of the body pressed over his own.

He tipped his head back, a needy groan tempted from his throat as Roy trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and across his chest, lingering on old scars and new bruises alike. Every breath was liquid light, filling his ribs with its glow and the pit of his stomach with a fire that leapt and danced in response to Roy's every move.

Inch by inch he trailed his flesh hand over Roy's broad shoulders, smooth back, hard muscle – teasing warm, pale flesh as he bit his lip to stop himself from begging out loud. He did not need to say a word; his body screamed its want, arching into every touch and thrilling in the scent and taste and presence of Roy.

Slick fingers stroked down his cock before moving further back, catching his breath and making him buck as Roy groaned, begging him to take it slowly before they were both lost. It had been too long. Damn assignments and weeks away and now – now everything screamed for this. It mattered more than air, more than life. He was dying with need and alive with heat as he tipped his head back in some kind of hedonistic prayer.

'Please!' he choked, writhing in an effort to get more. His whole body was on fire, burning bright and utterly under Roy's control. Husky murmurs fell on deaf ears as Roy shifted, leaving him bereft for a second's eternity before pulling him astride his lap. A moment of pressure and then – bliss. It filled him from one edge to the other, rising in a steady, lapping tide as he found his rhythm and brought Roy closer and closer to the edge.

Ed's fingers tightened on sweat-slicked shoulders, struggling for grip as he pressed his forehead to Roy's, staring into impossibly dark eyes and seeing his hunger. Their breath mingled in tight, uneven pants. Deeper, faster, and Roy's grip on his hips tightened, holding him steadily in place as he arched closer, taking all Ed had to offer and surrendering himself entirely.

Release was a thundering tsunami of sensation, picking Ed up and losing him in its depths, carrying him along as they shook in each other's embrace. Finally, Roy moved, and gentle hands tugged him back down to the mattress, stroking to calm rather than arouse. Roy nuzzled his hair and kissed him again, slow and rich with sated passion, saying again and again without speaking a word: I love you.


End file.
